


Tremble

by zoeyeliza



Series: Irondad Whump [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hypothermia, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Protective Tony Stark, Teen Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Whump, and i love irondad whump, peter parker is an adorable dumbass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-30 19:52:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18321863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoeyeliza/pseuds/zoeyeliza
Summary: “I need to get you warm. Listen, you’re gonna want to go to sleep, but I can’t let you do that, okay? Just stay with me, stay with me, Peter.”orPeter’s a dumbass and almost dies of hypothermia.





	Tremble

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't posted in a hot minute,, sorry bout that. school's been hella busy and i'm applying for colleges so it's been a lot. anyway here's wonderwall

Diving into the Hudson River was not the brightest idea. 

Peter realized this as he lay on the riverbank, shivering in his hoodie and jeans. His suit was at home and tucked away in the closet, but that didn’t keep him from risking death for a drowning dog. He’d dragged it ashore, and the ungrateful mutt just as quickly disappeared into the brush. Now Peter sat in the mud, blue-lipped and soaked to the bone.

He fumbled with the watch on his wrist. It was a birthday gift from Mr. Stark, embedded with a tracker and an emergency call button.  _ Real emergencies only,  _ Peter remembered him saying.  _ No coffee dates _ . Was this an emergency? Peter could barely think through the cold. His skin was burning, his fingers were numb, and his breathing was shallow. Definitely an emergency.

~

Tony sat in the workshop, hunched over blueprints and scraps of metal. AC/DC was playing as usual, and Peter was late as usual. Everything was usual until Tony’s watch vibrated against his wrist, startling him from his concentration.

He’d given Peter a matching one for his birthday. Pepper teased Tony for months after that, calling him soft and doting, a protective dad. But Tony never intended for the watch to be used—it was purely for peace of mind, something that connected them when they were apart. And now the watch was vibrating. Something was actually, genuinely  _ wrong _ .

The Iron Man suit formed around Tony before he could even think it, surrounding him in a protective metal shell. He blasted off from the tower, relying almost completely on FRIDAY to guide him to Peter’s location. 

Panic bubbled in the back of Tony’s throat, threatening to spill over. He couldn’t think, his mind consumed by every possible scenario, most of which ended in a horrible injury or someone’s death. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but the kid was worth damn-near everything. The days spent in the workshop, the nights spent watching movies, the hours spent talking and joking and laughing. Peter was the son Tony never knew he wanted.

Approaching the Hudson River, Tony could make out a small, pale body sprawled out on shore. The sight was enough to send him spiraling, his panic finally getting the best of him. Tony’s helmet felt impossibly claustrophobic, and everything around him appeared hazy, his breathing becoming ragged and labored. 

_ Not now.  _ Tony froze, hovering nearly thirty feet over Peter, unable to move or even think.  _ Please, not now. _

“Boss, his vitals are dropping!” FRIDAY pleaded in Tony’s ear.

“I-I know.” Tony removed his faceplate and gasped. It felt like his airway was closing in on itself.  _ Fuck, Stark, get it together. _ “FRI, alert Cho.”

“Already done, boss,” FRIDAY said.

Tony took a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut. He could break down later, once the boy was safe.  _ Not right now. Now is about Peter _ .

Tony made a hasty descent downward, landing at Peter’s side. His skin was sickeningly pale, and his lips were a light shade of blue. His eyes were closed, almost like he was sleeping. Tony placed a shaky, hesitant hand on Peter’s forehead and flinched at how cold and clammy he was. His fingers wandered to Peter’s throat, desperately searching for a pulse, and Tony almost cried at how weak it was, but at least there was a heartbeat. There was a heartbeat, fleeting and thready, but still a heartbeat.

“M’ser Stark?” Peter said, quieter than a whisper. He looked up at Tony with cloudy, heavy-lidded eyes, brown and soft as ever.

Warmth blossomed in Tony’s chest at the sight, Peter so completely trusting him. But the feeling dissipated with a shudder at the realization that those eyes might never look up at him again.

“Hey, Pete.” Tony held Peter’s icy face and ran a hand through the boy’s hair, just like he would when he comforted him after a nightmare. “I need to get you warm. Listen, you’re gonna want to go to sleep, but I can’t let you do that, okay? Just stay with me, bud.”

“But ‘m so tired,” Peter closed his eyes, “and cold.”

“Stay with me, Peter. Do not go to sleep, you are  _ not  _ allowed to sleep!”

“Asshole,” Peter rasped, followed by a shaky laugh.

“You’ll thank me later,” Tony said with a grin, but bile started rising in his throat when Peter fell silent. The boy’s chest stilled and the pulse under Tony’s fingers fluttered frighteningly slow. “L-Let’s get you back to the tower.”

Tony scooped Peter’s limp body into his arms, careful to keep the kid’s head nestled safely against his chest. He wondered if Peter could hear his frantic heartbeat through the armor.

~

Tony crashed into the medical wing. Keeping a firm grasp on the boy in his arms, the Iron Man suit melted back into Tony’s chest, revealing his pale, worried face.

“Cho—!”

Helen Cho rushed to Peter’s side, jabbing at his wrist with a needle. Tony’s panic surged. “What are you giving him!?” Protective instincts kicking in, he blocked Helen from Peter’s vulnerable body.

Trying again to insert the needle into a vein, Helen bumped into Tony with a frustrated grunt. “I’ve got him, Tony. Put him down and go wait outside—”

“I’m not moving! Cho, he’s my kid, I’m  _ not moving _ !” Tony practically screamed. He’d never felt such fierce worry for another person.

Helen paused, her expression softening. She looked at Tony pleadingly and whispered, “I’ve got him, Tony. Go wait outside. Please.”

Tony felt sick, realizing that his trembling fingers were digging into Peter’s side. His hands unclenched, somehow shaking harder, and he gingerly laid the boy down on the nearest bed. Peter whimpered softly at the loss of Tony’s touch, and the sound almost broke him.

Tony retreated to the hallway, moving like a ghost, staring at nothing as his back hit the wall and he slid to the floor.

~

Peter’s eyes opened slowly, blinded by the sterile white of the medical wing. He was very familiar with this place (his last time was a few months ago when he snapped an arm wrestling with a forklift). He recognized the incessant beeping of the heart monitor, the chemical scent of disinfectant. The warm, calloused hand clutching his own.  _ Tony. _

Fully opening his eyes, Peter squinted at the older man at his side. Tony was slumped over, asleep. But it was a fitful sleep from the looks of it, Tony’s eyes flitting under his eyelids and his hand shaking violently in Peter’s.

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter coughed and squeezed the man’s hand. “Mr. Stark?”

Tony’s head shot up, significantly paler than normal (plus his eyes were red and puffy, probably from crying, but Peter wasn’t going to mention that). “Pete?” 

“Hey—”

“Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Stop worrying—”

“I’ll never stop worrying.” Tony tightened his grip on Peter’s hand and leaned in, his eyes darkening. He said quietly, almost in a whisper, “You nearly died.”

Peter squirmed under the weight of Tony’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Tony.”

“No, kid, don’t apologize,” Tony stared at Peter’s face like he was memorizing every detail, a deep sadness etched into the man’s frown. “You just called me Tony.”

“What? I, um, y-yeah. Yeah, I mean, I might as well,” Peter stammered, offering a lopsided grin. “I almost died, right?”

“And you’re  _ never  _ allowed to it again.” Tony ruffled Peter’s hair. “The dying part, not the calling-me-Tony part.”

“No promises, Mr. Stark.”

“Kid.” Tony clutched his chest. “I have a weak heart, you know.”

“Yeah, old man, I know,” Peter said with a yawn.

“Alright, shut up and go to sleep.” Tony was smiling, but he still looked sad.

Tony kept his hands tangled in Peter’s curls, running them soothingly through his hair. Peter hummed and contentedly closed his eyes. As he started drifting off, Tony spoke softly, quiet enough Peter might have imagined it.

“I love you, kid.”

**Author's Note:**

> leave me a comment babes !!
> 
> I'm on tumblr @ironlesbo


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